


Spanking Sansa

by jkl789



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Incest Play, Non-Consensual Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jkl789/pseuds/jkl789
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A jealous Petyr punishes Sansa for flirting with others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spanking Sansa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marquise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marquise/gifts).



Petyr watched Sansa charm the young lordlings. She was doing what he'd told her, but he was still enraged by each smile, each laugh, each dance. It reminded him of happy, carefree days long ago at Riverrun, and memories both painful and sweet. She reminded him of Catelyn, but she was his in a way Cat had never been. Sansa belonged to him. He owned her.

He owned her, and he had to watch that arrogant little prick Harry put his hands on her. Harry plucked a lemon cake from the table and raised it to Sansa's lips, holding it while she nibbled delicately. When the cake was gone, he said something that made her laugh and then he twined one of her curls about his finger. Petyr could not bear it any longer.

He had one more cup to drink than he normally did, but it didn't dull his jealous rage. His vision narrowed to Sansa. He forgot about Yohn Royce, the suspicious old bastard, and that proud hag Anya Waynwood. He forgot that the lords of the Vale surely had spies in his hall, as he had spies in their halls, and the Spider had spies everywhere. He forgot everything but Sansa.

She was extraordinarily beautiful with her hair darkened to a common mud brown, but she would be even more glorious with her natural hair color. It would only be a few months more before her identity could be revealed. He looked forward to seeing her hair returned to its beautiful auburn hue. He'd always loved Cat's red-brown hair as much as he loved her brilliant blue eyes. 

His head spun when he rose to his feet. Petyr was sober enough to realize he'd drank more than he should, and drunk enough not to care. "My lords, ladies, and honorable knights, I fear I am no longer as young as I was and I must retire for the evening. Have no fear, however, the wine will continue to flow and the musicians will play on."

He descended from the high table. "Alayne," he called, and his daughter obediently came to his side. 

They walked to his chambers in silence. She was happy. Her eyes were warm with the glow of her smile, in a way he hadn't seen since before Ned Stark lost his head. Once they were within his bedroom and the door was safely barred shut, Petyr took her in his arms and kissed her long and deep. 

She retreated across the room, to pour a cup of water, once he released her. Usually after an event like tonight's feast, they discussed the pawns present and the moves he'd made. She might have been born of Ned Stark's seed, but she did not show it. She was entirely the image of Cat, and Petyr could pretend she really was his daughter. He was teaching her the game of thrones, the game he'd had to learn on his own, so that she would become his daughter in mind and in soul at least. 

Tonight, however, Petyr didn't want to talk about the game. His cock was achingly hard in his breeches and jealousy still coursed through his veins. "Come here, Alayne."

Sansa seated herself in his lap with undisguised reluctance. One day he'd have her sit like this when they were both naked and have her fuck herself on his cock. Not yet though. She needed to be a virgin for a while longer. "I'm disappointed in you, sweetling."

She looked dismayed. "How have I displeased you, Father?"

"You acted like a common slut tonight, letting Harry be familiar with you."

"I was only trying to do as you told me, Father, and make him love me."

"He must want you, but he must not think you are easy to get. Do you think he will want to marry you if he thinks he can get beneath your skirts with a smile and some sweet words?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized. She sounded miserable and ashamed. 

Petyr kissed her cheek. "You have my forgiveness, sweet daughter, but I believe you must be taught a lesson so that you remember your mistakes and do not repeat them."

"A lesson?"

"Have you ever been spanked, Sansa? Did Ned Stark spank you?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I was good. My father never had to spank me."

"Your father has to spank you now." 

He watched her face intently, watching as her horror turned to defeat and acceptance. She bowed her head without saying anything. Petyr almost felt sorry for her. He turned her over so that she was laying across his lap on her stomach, with her rear presented for punishment. He pulled up the thick layers of her dress and petticoats; she wouldn't have felt a thing through all those layers of wool, and besides, he was not about to pass up the chance to caress her naked arse. 

He didn't start the spanking right away. First, he ran his palms over the soft, smooth skin of her hind cheeks. Her arse was well shaped, round and almost plump despite her being a slender girl. She was developing the body of a goddess to go with that beautiful face. Petyr dipped his fingers between her thighs, thinking she was too innocent to know what he was doing and, in any case, he doubted she'd dare to object.

He massaged her cunt until she started to squirm. He was tempted to make her come, but if he couldn't satisfy his desire for her, then she didn't deserve any relief either. He began to spank her. He didn't ease her into it, didn't start gently and build up to greater pain. He started off hard, with loud smacks, and the slaps he landed on her arse only got more forceful. She made a little whimpering sound and he realizes she was crying. 

She writhed in his lap, reacting to every blow. Petyr held her down so he could feel her against his cock as he spanked her. He was close. 

"I'm sorry, Father. Please don't punish me anymore. I've learned my lesson."

Her bottom was a pretty shade of red. It was an arse made to be spanked. Petyr smoothed his hand over the tender flesh for a few moments, lulling Sansa into thinking the spanking was over. When he began to spank her anew, she cried out in shock. Petyr came then, spending himself in his pants like a green boy. 

When he had recovered himself, he pushed Sansa out of his lap gently. He dried her tears and kisses her forehead. "I'm sorry you made me do that, sweetling. I never want to hurt you again."

She didn't say anything. Petyr led her to his bed and laid down with her, holding her chastely. "You can sleep here tonight." He stroked her hair. "You know how much I love you, don't you, Alayne?"

"I know," she said quietly. "I love you, too, Father."

Petyr hugged her tighter and closed his eyes, already dreaming of the ways he'd punish her next time. Maybe next time he'd make her strip naked...


End file.
